


The Wrong Dragon

by armistyx



Series: Misadventures of Hyrule [6]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), timelines are funky wunky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armistyx/pseuds/armistyx
Summary: It starts as an itch on the back of his skull. Then, it begins to grow.
Series: Misadventures of Hyrule [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797214
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Wrong Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> (quotations in bold are marked as a different dialect!)

Another portal of Cia's had opened up. They weren’t sure how or where or when, but a girl (that no one was quite familiar with) had stomped her way outside the castle grounds, insisting that _she_ was the new hero of Hyrule. Impa and Link shared a quizzical look between themselves -- could there really be _two_ heroes? -- and before they could question her further, the girl became overwhelmed with a sense of grief. 

The compass! Her compass was the only proof she could provide to prove she was the destined hero! However, a mischievous imp had taken it from her, and she had failed to retrieve it before he disappeared to Hylia knows where.

They could humor this girl and retrieve her magic compass while Hyrule basked in its stillness of peace.

Given only a vague sense of direction and a hastily sputtered description of the imp, Link found himself landing into a new world. _Termina,_ if he remembered what Lana had called it. He would rather have Lana here with him to guide him through the landscape that she was familiar with (being the Guardian of Time and all), but much to Lana's disdain and Impa's insistence, the sorceress was much more useful housed in the castle should Cia choose to make her presence known. After all, Lana knew her best, and Impa's word was _always_ final.

Instead, Volga begrudgingly accompanied him through the portal. 

They made a durable pair in terms of their combined skills in combat. The dragon knight had only recently been an addition to Hyrule's forces, so Link wasn't quite sure what to make of him. He knew that Volga was a formidable opponent on the field and held a level of respect for Link that he made clear _wasn't_ easily so shared with the rest of their allies, but to call him a _friend?_ They weren't ready for that just yet.

If Volga was thankful for at least _one_ thing since allying with the other side, the captain wasn't very talkative.

They walked together in silence having found themselves on the outskirts of a town in the distance. Volga stood idly as Link paused to decipher whatever Hylian the sign leading into the town was in, seemingly uninterested. _Why,_ he wondered, this boy had to take in every little detail of this world was beyond his knowledge. They weren't here for a tour or to forge a new alliance. They were here only for a compass -- a _stupid_ compass that a _stupid_ girl had misplaced, Volga reminded himself -- so why the interest? It was supposed to be a mundane task: ask for information, find the imp, kill it, get the compass. So _why,_ in Din's name, was Link making it so damn difficult?

"I'm going," he said gruffly. "Stay here and solve your puzzle if you'd like."

Link waved him off, sticking his tongue out at the dragon knight when his back turned and returned to the sign.

The hero was growing to be a pain in his side, Volga mused to himself. Despite this minor setback in his character, he still respected him. Perhaps joining the side where the warrior that continued to flourish and grow was a wise choice; Link was still young in comparison to Volga, and had yet to experience all that the world had to offer. He’d yet to grow to his full potential that maybe, one day, Volga would finally yield to him. He'd let the boy indulge himself in the world's curiosities this time.

Volga could see the actual entrance to the town from his current place, slightly amused with the way how the people tucked away behind its walls were beginning to stop and stare. He could see how their faces grew pale, some growing rigid in fear, and some even hurrying to move out of his way before he came through as he strode forth. It was nice to see that even his imposing stature carried on between worlds.

The sound of galloping hooves of a horse behind him didn't deter him. If anything, whoever was foolish enough to approach him from behind was either someone with a death wish, someone in a rush, or someone worthy of a chance to clash weapons with. More than likely it was almost always the former. So Volga chooses to ignore how the horse comes to an abrupt stop, ignoring the hurried patter of footfalls behind him --

\-- he couldn't ignore the sudden weight currently latched onto his right leg.

"Vo-"

"Insolent brat!" he hissed, finally looking down at the small child currently peering up at him through the sharp points of his armored leg. The glare he sent the boy must have frightened him since he had let go and taken a hesitant step back, though a look of conviction held steady in his sapphire eyes. 

Then, Volga noticed how eerily similar he looked to his traveling companion, from the tips of his pointed ears to the color of his hair and even down to the green of his tunic. The spirit of the hero must have been reborn in this time as a child, not having yet been full grown to a ripened age to taste battle. The child still held an air of authority -- and fearlessness if he were was brave enough to come near the dragon with his back turned -- as if he had grown to know struggle.

The child's face twisted into a fearsome pout as he pointed at the dragon knight's helmet. 

**"** Volvagia! **"**

Something in Volga's skull itched. He elected to ignore it and tilted his head at the youth's affirmative tone. He scowled in response. "Volga," he corrected.

The child shook his head vehemently and scurried over to the nearest shrub, pilfering through it until he found a sizable stick. He began to draw patterns into the soft dirt between them, and Volga watched in mild interest. He couldn't place _why_ he felt like he knew the child than other than him being another hero (now that he thought of it, he had never crossed paths with another green-clad hero when he had visited the land in the sky), and the itch in his skull was starting to become a bother. Claws worked underneath the helmet to try and soothe the growing sensation. 

It grew _unbearable_ when the child looked back up to him after he finished. The drawing in the dirt bore a different sense of similarity to his own dragon form. It was a dragon that bore a likeness to him, but noticeably lankier, wingless, and missing a pair of legs. Volga shook his head both to rid himself of whatever it was trying to worm its way into his head and to dissuade the child.

"You have the wrong dragon." 

The child in green's hopeful expression fell with the response. For a moment, he looked defeated and on the verge of tears, but the child's frown deepened in frustration. A small boot angrily kicked up the dirt in front of him, disfiguring the picture. He grew stiff and stared at the earth with a slight tremble growing in his shoulders.

From their current place, Volga could see his companion working his way over the hill toward them. There was no time to entertain this child. He acknowledged the boy once more. "If you don't mind, I must be-"

 **"** Why don't you remember me? **"**

His voice was so soft -- so _hoarse,_ as if it hadn't been used in years. Volga nearly missed it. 

He didn't miss how the itch stopped only for the crippling sense of regret to start blossoming in his chest. He couldn't breathe, and for a moment, he couldn't feel anything. The dragon fell to his knees and grasped at his chest plate.

The language the child spoke wasn't of their Hyrule -- no, it was far simpler dialect of Hyrulean compared to the language of modern day. It was an ancient language that nearly had become forgotten. Volga's mind began to flood with memories he didn't realize he had. No! These were not _his_ memories. 

_Volvagia._

They were his _ancestor's_ memories.

**_Remember me!_ **

It was in his nature to grow old, outlive many kinds of species, shield, become a guardian, protect those that _mattered --_

His eyes widened in surprise as he looked to the boy who mirrored his expression: fearful and confused, consumed with a sense of sadness and guilt.

**_We're gonna be friends from now on!_ **

"Link."

Volga rid himself of his helmet to better look at the younger Link, desperately schooling his expression to suppress the urge to break down. After all, he was supposed to be the stronger one. He was supposed to be strong, to _protect_ Link. Like reflex, the ancient words fell from his tongue.

 **"** I'm so, so sorry. **"**

He hated how defeated he sounded. 

The anxieties that held his heart hostage washed away in relief when he felt the boy's -- _Link's_ \-- arms around his neck. The sound of the younger Link’s stifled crying in his neck broke his heart, but he still had to remain the strong one. Careful with the edges of his armor, Volga cradled the younger Link in his arms with a desperation he didn't know lived in him. Consoling and providing comfort wasn't an emotion or gesture he was used to, but it felt so natural to push the boy's cap off his head and stroke his hair.

 **"** I'm sorry I -- _we_ failed you. **"**

The younger Link continued to cry for a beat longer before pulling back a little to meet Volga's eyes. His eyes were puffy and face flushed red, but he shook his head. Through his tear-stained face he managed to pull a small smile, bumping his forehead with Volga's. The dragon released a long breath he didn't realize he was holding.

 **"** We're gonna be friends from now on. **"** Young Link sniffed. **"** I promise. **"**

Young Link offered a small hand out to him, pinky out. Volga matched his expression with a small smile of his own and locked his pinky together with the other's.

 **"** Promise. **"**

The younger Link shook their hands on it.

Volga pulled back enough to cup the boy's cheeks to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill over again despite the protests. It was now priority that he keep his charge in his sights.... speaking of--

\-- _his_ Link stood by a good yard away, having watched the scene unfold. Confused didn't begin to describe the thoughts running in his mind. He looked between the child -- who was the kid, and why did he look like him? -- and Volga -- why was his helmet off, and why was he somewhat attractive? -- with his eyebrows knit tightly together. Link signed quickly to try and get an answer, but Volga waved him off.

"A friend," Volga said coldly, quashing any sense of emotion that seeped into his voice, "and he will be joining us on our mission. I won't accept any objections from you, captain." The dragon reached for his helmet to fit it back over his skull before moving to swipe the younger Link's cap, giving his hair a quick tussle before fitting it back on his head. The child pouted for only a moment before melting in a fit of laughter.

Link watched them in silence. It was strange to see the cold and stoic dragon knight that tried to kill him time and again months ago act so fondly toward _anyone._ Perhaps he had a soft spot for children. For whatever reason, the Hylian envied this child, but questions could be asked later. For now, they had a task to complete, and Impa had a strict schedule to keep.

The sun was beginning to set over the hills of Termina. Link didn't want to know what kind of monsters played out in the fields at night time. He moved past the dragon knight and their new companion as they rose to their feet and followed him into town, pretending not to hear their conversation. On one hand, he's glad they have a lead to finding their target and someone native to this land. On the other, he didn't want to bring a _child_ so young into the cruelty of war, held accountable for his life, held responsible for failing him.

From the look on Volga's face earlier, he could only imagine how it must have felt the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> did anyone ask for this? no?
> 
> because i know i didnt
> 
> part 1 of 2 maybe? i just want to write more volga being reflective on reincarnation/ancestor stuff
> 
> [join my discord!](https://discord.gg/STKAMnS)


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